


romanticism and other foils

by from a forgotten time (retweet_this)



Category: Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real News RPF
Genre: Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 17:05:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retweet_this/pseuds/from%20a%20forgotten%20time
Summary: how else could anyone explain it?





	romanticism and other foils

It must be kismet, because how else could anyone explain it? Coincidence, maybe, but that’s not nearly as romantic, and if there’s something they have in common, it’s their romanticism.

Jake arrives at the gate about an hour before boarding (though who knows when boarding will actually start) and it’s while he’s looking at the open seats does he spot Jim, leaned back, headphones on and phone in his hand. They’re big headphones, the kind that go over your ears and not inside of them - actual headphones. It’s, well, if he’s being honest with himself, it’s kind of funny.

There are plenty of open seats, but Jake takes the one right across from him. He sits down, dropping his bag on the floor, and then he sort of looks at Jim expectantly, like he’s waiting for him to suddenly look up and recognize him.

Jake has to clear his throat very pointedly and shift a couple of times until Jim finally notices. He pulls his headphones down, blinking a couple of times as he takes him in. “Oh, Jake,” he says. “Uh, hey. Nice, uh, seeing you here. Unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” Jake raises a brow.

“Not unwanted,” Jim clarifies. He smiles a little as he leans forward, legs spread and leaned out slightly. His eyes dart over to his phone for a brief moment before looking back at him.

“So,” Jake says and suddenly, he can’t think of a single thing to talk about. He thought this would be a little fun, having someone to sit next to and talk to, but maybe it was a better idea not to engage. Why’d he even do it in the first place?

“So,” Jim repeats, slight curl to his lips, “how does it feel, being one of the big-name honorees this year, huh? If I remember correctly, something about distinguished service? And they’re gonna make you give a big fancy speech about journalism to all of us.”

Jake resists the urge to roll his eyes. “The John F. Hogan Distinguished Service Award,” he says, carefully, trying not to sound like he really cares about it (he does). “And the speech is, you know, a formality. It’s an award, everyone expects a speech.”

“You’re acting like no one wants to hear you talk about how great you are at journalism or, you know, whatever this award is for.” Jim sits up straight, still smirking, and it takes Jake a couple of scoffs to come up with some sort of response.

“I – that’s – that’s not true,” is the best he can come up with and Jim, rightfully, laughs in his face. His smile turns a tad lighter, a tad softer. Jake shifts a little in his seat. “Come on, you’re talking like no one wants to hear you talk about the perils of being a journalist in the administration.”

He doesn’t respond, just gives a fond shake of his head as he leans forward to grab his coffee off of the floor. He takes a short sip. “So,” he says, completely changing the subject, “how long are you planning on staying?”

Jake shrugs. “I’m leaving tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow? That’s what, less than twenty-four hours?” He shakes his head. “You can barely see any of the sights – what are you gonna do, just sit in your hotel room?”

“That’s the plan,” Jake says, and he tries not to laugh when Jim’s eyes comically widen as he gapes at him. He shrugs in response. “What can I say, Disneyland doesn’t do it for me without the kids.”

Jim chuckles at that, shaking his head again as he grins. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on,” he says, in all seriousness. “There are plenty of things to do, though, even outside of Disney.”

“I’m sure there are, but I don’t feel like searching for them.” There’s an announcement that boarding’s about to begin for first class – of course they both have tickets for first class, what else would they have, with their jobs – and they both stand up together.

Jim drains his coffee and throws it in the trash. “How about this,” he starts, as they head to the line, “if you give me a chance, I’m sure I could show you a good time.”

“Show me a good time?” Jake repeats, trying not to laugh right in his face. He smiles despite himself and, well, what’s the harm? “Fine,” he says. “I might take you up on the offer.”

“Sounds good,” Jim grins. He hands his ticket over and walks through to the plane, and Jake doesn’t see him for the rest of the flight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They end up sharing a ride from the airport to the hotel, sitting in silence and staring at their phones. At one point, Jim hums, “Time differences, huh?” and Jake shrugs and nods, “Yeah.” He’s tired, he certainly is, but it doesn’t really set in until they’re stepping into the lobby and all of a sudden, all he wants to do is sleep, as he stumbles over to the front desk.

It takes Jake a few moments to understand that the receptionist is even speaking, let alone comprehend what she’s saying. “What?” he blinks.

“They accidentally gave away your room,” Jim explains. He doesn’t look nearly as tired as he sounds, but then again, Jake hasn’t been a correspondent in a long time, he’s kind of forgotten how to stay awake for any amount of time on little sleep.

His head is spinning, he doesn’t want to think, he takes a deep breath and looks at Jim. “I’m only here for one night,” he says. “Would you, uh, mind terribly if –”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Jim says, a little quickly. Maybe not that quickly, Jake doesn’t know, he just turns back to the receptionist and thanks her as Jim grabs his keycard and they walk over to the elevator.

Jim presses the buttons and leans back against the wall. “You couldn’t sleep on the plane, huh?” he hums.

“I’m surprised you could,” Jake admits. His legs feel a little weird but steady somehow, firm on the ground and refusing to shift. It might be hard to walk later, but that’s later, and he raises a brow at Jim. “Weren’t you drinking coffee before we left?”

He shrugs, slight sheepish grin as he says, “I read that coffee before naps gives you a more restful sleep.”

“Huh. Well, I wouldn’t really know, I don’t drink coffee.” Jake lets out a little polite laugh as he turns to the doors. “It’s not good for me.”

“Nothing is.”

There’s something about the way Jim says it that gives Jake pause, just for a moment, but then the doors open and they’re both getting out. He lets the moment slip out of his mind, there’s no reason he should think about it, it probably won’t ever come up again.

He’s got a different worry when they reach the hotel room – it’s a single bed, enough room for both of them but it is a small bed, it seems like it would be a bit of a tight fit. It doesn’t matter, he’s fine with it, but he wonders if Jim is.

Jim throws his bag down on one of the chairs and starts digging around inside of it, throwing a shirt over his shoulder. “You can use the bathroom first,” he says. “I might take a quick shower, get rid of some of my jetlag.”

“Okay,” Jake says. There’s no other way to respond. He goes in once he’s grabbed his toothbrush and a change of clothes, and he and Jim barely brush up against each other as they switch places. It’s not awkward, they barely look at each other but in a comfortable sort of way. If there is such a thing.

The exhaustion sets in as soon as his head hits the pillow and he’s out before the shower even turns on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he wakes up, for a split moment, he doesn’t know where he is. Eyes barely open, vision bleary, all he can feel are blankets and a slight indent in the mattress beside him. He shifts and groans a little as his body unfurls, all his limbs stretching out.

“Morning,” Jim says, and Jake nearly jumps. His eyes finally open and he sees him sitting at the small table. He’s already dressed, loose shirt and jeans (dad jeans? is it automatically dad jeans if a dad is wearing them?), and his mouth quirks when he catches him staring.

Jake looks away. It’s the morning, he’s not wearing his glasses, his vision is adjusting, and his inhibitions are low, okay? He wasn’t being rude, just… absentminded, maybe. He stretches out his back. “Morning,” he replies, finally. His eyes catch sight of a pair of running shorts in the corner and he adds, “I, uh, see you’ve went out on a run.”

“Yeah, well, gotta keep this body in shape, huh?” Jim laughs. He pokes his stomach deprecatingly as he leans back in his chair and checks his phone. “It’s about eight-thirty right now, but I was thinking we could head out for brunch or something at around ten?”

“Brunch?” Jake repeats.

“Brunch,” Jim smiles. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d get you out of your room this trip.”

“Does it count if I’m going to go to the gym?”

“You’re going to the gym?”

He thinks about it for a moment. “No, I’m probably not,” he admits. “I’m treating myself to a cheat day today.”

Jim’s laugh is short, but nice. He’s still grinning, just barely, as he says, “In that case, I’ll be sure to pick the most expensive restaurants for us to eat at today.”

“I’m cheating on my diet, not my wallet,” Jake says, rolling his eyes as he finally pushes the covers off. He runs his fingers through his hair, shaking it around a little before scanning the nightstand for his glasses. And then it’s his turn to catch him staring.

Jim’s head is tilted, giving him a curious look, and the attention makes Jake flush slightly. He’s about to ask but Jim says, “This might be the first time I’ve seen you with your glasses on.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “They look nice.”

“Thank you.” Jake doesn’t know why but it makes him want to flush harder. It’s very early in the morning. He gets up and starts searching through his bag for what could be considered casual clothing – why did he pack only two pairs of clothes? Oh yeah, he didn’t think he’d be going out at all – and heads to the bathroom to shower.

He hasn’t shared a bathroom with anyone else but his wife either, and it is kind of jaunting to see unfamiliar things on a bathroom counter. Well, really, it’s not that different from what he has – skincare products and shaving cream and the like – but it’s the pile of dirty laundry under the sink that makes him smile.

Jim’s watching TV when Jake gets out of the shower. He’s got his feet propped up on the table and his arms behind his head, casual as all can be.

“Sure you don’t want to just sit around here for the rest of the day?” Jake asks as he sits down on the bed. His hair is still a little wet and his glasses are askew, and he smiles anyway.

“We can watch TV at home, too.”

“We can also have brunch at home,” Jake points out.

Jim turns his chair over and looks at him, raising a brow. “Have we ever been out to brunch together?” he asks.

“Okay, fair point.” He chuckles a little despite himself and bends down to fix the hem of his pants. “Where are we going?”

“I found a nice place nearby,” Jim hums, shifting so he can pull out his phone. “It’s a little on the expensive side but, then again, from what I’ve heard, you’re quite the expensive date.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “What can I say,” he deadpans, “I like good food.”

Jim starts to laugh but then, he abruptly stops as he takes in Jake’s attire. “Hang on,” he says, slowly, “you’re really going out dressed like _that_?”

He looks down at his clothes with a slight frown. “What’s wrong with this?”

“I mean, it’s fine if you’re going to go to some fancy dinner but this is just a casual brunch.” Jim gets off of the chair and heads to his bag, scrambling through his clothes. “We’re about the same size, yeah? I’ve got plenty of clothes.”

“Jim, this – this is ridiculous,” Jake stammers, just a little. He’s flushing again but more out of self-consciousness – what’s so wrong with his clothes? Well, okay, maybe he is wearing a dress shirt and slacks and sandals and yeah, that’s not ideal for what they’re doing but, well, like he said before, he doesn’t have anything else to wear, does he?

Jim tosses him a shirt and Jake catches it. He smiles. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The brunch place is just like every brunch place Jake’s ever been to – admittedly not many, but the point remains. Light, airy atmosphere, tables small and intimate, his knees keep bumping against Jim’s and their fingers brush whenever they reach for their drinks at the same time.

“So,” Jim says, once he’s gotten through a good chunk of his frittata, “how are the kids?”

“They’re great,” Jake hums, unable to stop himself from smiling. They’re probably at school right about now, considering the time difference. He taps his fork against his plate. “Still young so, you know, none of that drama.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jim chuckles. “I’m telling you, it just gets worse from there on out.”

“Yeah, I hear.” He pauses slightly, hesitantly, unsure, but then he goes ahead and asks. “Do… do your kids watch you on the press briefings?”

Jim falters a bit in his chewing, eyes widening slightly, and he takes a few moments as he swallows his bite before responding. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I mean, it’s their mother’s purview now, mostly, but sometimes they watch my live shots.”

Oh. Yeah. Right. Jake forgot Jim was divorced now. He nods sympathetically. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Jim sighs again, then chuckles, just a little, without much humor. “I’m kind of glad they’re not very invested in cable news, you know?”

Jake blinks and raises a brow. “Why not?”

Jim is just about to respond when his phone starts to ring. He flips it over on the desk and purses his lips before looking at Jake apologetically. “Mind if I –”

“Not at all.” Jake watches him slide open his phone and get to his feet, stepping aside a little as he answers.

“Hey, Jeff.” He pauses, then laughs. “Wow, I miss you too, buddy.” He steps over into a corner and Jake looks down at his phone. Maybe he should call Jen too, see how she’s doing. Texted her in the car ride to the restaurant and that’s all fine but doesn’t she deserve to hear her voice?

And then Jim sits down across from him, scooting his chair forward and smiling. “Sorry about that,” he says. “So, right, I was thinking we could watch a movie after this, maybe?”

“A movie?” Jake repeats. “What, brunch wasn’t enough?”

Jim gives him a look as he crosses his arms. “Come on, Jake, when was the last time you went to see a movie that didn’t have Legos in it?”

The fact that Jake has to take a moment to think about it is what clinches it for him. He shakes his head with a slight smile and sighs, “All right, you’ve got a point. What movie?”

Jim shrugs. “Whatever movie. As long as it’s something we can watch without our kids.”

There’s a movie theatre nearby and they walk there together, side by side, it’s a nice day out. Really nice to get all that DC air out of his lungs, to breathe in something – well, comparatively fresher, regardless of whether or not it really is.

“You take a lot of pictures,” Jake says after Jim stops him for the third time to snap a shot of something picturesque and Californian.

“Oh yeah?” Jim says, and he turns to take a picture of Jake, laughing as he tries to push his phone away. “Come on, Jake, live a little, have some fun.”

“I’m having enough fun, thank you very much,” Jake retorts. He’s trying his hardest not to smile, but it is kind of silly, a little relaxing, if you’re into this sort of thing.

“You check your tweets every second you think I’m not looking,” Jim points out.

Jake rolls his eyes. “Well, I won’t be on my phone in the theatre, so you can count that as a win.”

“It’s not a win if you _have_ to do it.” He pockets his phone and looks around, before gesturing Jake along. “Come on, let’s grab some snacks for the theatre. I think I can probably sneak something in these cargo shorts.”

“But we _just_ ate,” Jake tries to counter but to no avail, Jim is already heading off in the direction of some convenience store and he has no choice but to follow. He, well, doesn’t really mind following, not at all.

And in the aisles, Jim looking around through bags of candy and asking for his opinion, Jake forgets to check his phone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They’re in a cab, driving through the city, the sun went down earlier than Jake expected and now everything else is lit up around them. They’re both on their phones now, scrolling through emails and Twitter and whatever else, before they get sucked into the program.

“Did you like the movie?” Jim asks at one point.

“Well,” Jake says, slowly, “I didn’t think it was bad. Maybe a little scary.”

Jim nearly drops his phone as he tries to stifle his grin. “ _Scary_?” he repeats. “Are you telling me that Jake Tapper gets scared during horror movies?”

“Not _every_ horror movie,” Jake quickly snaps back. “Just – this one. It’s because I read the book when I was young and it brought back memories, and…” He takes a look at the smirk Jim has on his face and playfully swats his arm.

“For a journalist, you aren’t very convincing,” Jim laughs, rolling his eyes when Jake retorts with a curt, “Oh, shut up,” and they both laugh some more.

Jim’s eyes dart back to his phone when it buzzes in his hands and he scrolls through a few of his messages, casual, eyes glossy, and Jake finds himself. staring a little. He doesn’t think he’s had this kind of night with someone else in a while, casual and excessively goofy but in a good way.

It’s nice. He didn’t expect something like this, least of all from a guy like Jim who’s been in the spotlight a lot recently – and not always in a good way. But it was a lot nicer than he’d expected it to be, honestly. He didn’t know how much he missed having fun until he had it again.

Jim seems to have caught him staring because he looks up a couple of moments later and raises a brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jake says, shaking his head a little. “It’s… nothing. It’s fine.” He pauses, licking his lips a little, then says, slowly, “I had fun tonight.”

“I did too,” Jim says, and he smiles slightly at the end of it. Something seems to click, just for a second, just in that moment, where they look at each other and smile. Something warms in the base of Jake’s chest and he watches the lights reflect off of Jim’s eyes.

His lips part, and then the cab stops right in front of their hotel, and the moment is gone. Jim clears his throat. “Right, uh, we’d better get changed before we hit the conference, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jake says. He clears his throat and follows Jim out after they pay for the cab. There’s still a little bit something between them, something short, could be explored, and he wonders what could happen in the elevator when Jim turns his head and his eyes widen.

“Oh – hey, Adrian,” he calls out, waving over to a group of people. He glances over at Jake and shrugs. “Uh, go on without me, yeah? I’m just gonna go over and say hi real quick.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jake nods. “Yeah, have fun.” He watches him go and, well, fuck, he doesn’t know why he feels a little disappointed.

That’s stupid, he thinks, as he steps into the elevator. Really stupid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not until after the opening ceremonies are over that they see each other again.

Jake nearly jumps when the door to the room opens, just because of how sudden the sound is. He hasn’t been sharing hotel rooms in a long time, it’s easy to forget. He zips up his bag and smiles a little. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey,” Jim stumbles back slightly, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought you were already at the airport.”

“I’m about to be. Just gotta, you know,” he gestures to his bag. “I threw your shirt over with your dirty laundry.”

“You didn’t want to keep it?” Jim asks. He doesn’t wait for Jake to respond, just laughs and shakes his head. “I’m kidding – bad joke.”

“You make a lot of bad jokes,” Jake remarks, chuckling a little too. He feels like he’s still a little tipsy, even though the alcohol should’ve burned through his system by now. Or, maybe – and this is very cliché – he’s high on something else.

Jim shrugs off his jacket and throws it over a chair. He’s still smiling, eyes warm and lit up, like they usually are. He looks the same as he always does. “You like my jokes, though.”

“I do.” Jake checks his phone a moment – still early, but he shouldn’t dawdle. He shoves it back into his pocket and pulls his bag over his shoulder, walking over and holding out his hand to Jim. “All right, well, I’ll see you back in D.C.”

“See you there,” Jim hums. He takes his hand and gives it a brief shake and then, something strange happens.

Neither of them let go.

Jake has his hand in Jim’s and they’re both smiling at each other and it shouldn’t be this long of a moment. He flashes back to the car, the way the light struck Jim’s face and how they were looking at each other.

He’s got nice lashes, Jake thinks, and then they kiss. It happens slow, Jim pulling him closer and Jake leaning in, then it just happens. their lips brush and they kiss. And then it’s over as quickly as it began.

They pull away but not far enough. Jake can feel Jim’s breath on his face, feel the vibrations in his chest when he clears his throat. “Hi,” he says, quietly.

“Hi,” Jake says. He leans his head up and Jim meets him in the middle and there’s nothing slow about this kiss. It’s a lot faster, rougher, Jake is holding Jim’s face with both hands and pulling him closer while Jim grips his arms and sighs, steadily, softly.

Jake doesn’t remember dropping the bag but he does remember tripping over it as they’re backing their way onto the bed. His feet leave the ground for a split moment and his eyes widen and Jim pulls him up before he can hit the ground.

He pushes him down on the bed and there are a few precious seconds where they’re not kissing, where Jake can look up at Jim, see his parted lips and soft gaze. The seconds run out and then they’re kissing again.

Jim is pulling off his jacket, fingers drifting over his sides as he mumbles, “Your flight, you gotta get on your flight.”

“Yeah,” Jake says. He can’t think of anything else to say. Jim’s kissing down the side of his jaw and there’s nothing he’d rather think about than this. Whatever’s happening in the moment. He wonders if Jim is going to bite down, maybe, leave bruising kisses on the nape of his neck that stick out against his skin.

He can’t think about anything else. His breath hitches in his throat and his fingers grip the back of Jim’s head. “Oh,” he sighs, barely above a whisper. “ _Oh_.”

His eyes shut again as Jim leans up a little, moving from his jaw to his lips. He kisses so nice. He doesn’t know why he expected anything less, to be honest, but it’s nice to be pleasantly surprised.

Jim moves back as his hands reach down to tug on Jake’s pants, struggling to undo his belt without looking down. Jake has to lean forward with him so they don’t stop kissing and he can’t help but let out a slight moan when his hands brush against his dick.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Jim replies. He’s smiling slightly into the kiss, a little strained, as though he’s trying not to burst out into a huge grin. Jake barely manages to swallow down the hysterical giggles bubbling in his throat when, of course, he feels his phone vibrate.

Jim pulls away and he looks like he’s about to say something, but Jake doesn’t let him. He pulls his phone out and throws it aside, he doesn’t bother to check who it’s from, it doesn’t matter. He looks back at Jim.

“We, uh, don’t have much time,” he says, swallowing hard, and something in his chest tightens when he sees Jim stifle a chuckle.

“I knew I’d get you off your phone,” he replies then, before Jake can even think of a comeback, he presses his lips to the side of his jaw, not quite kissing, more like mumbling against his skin, soft things Jake can barely hear.

Jake’s breath comes in short pants, heavy breathing that barely manages to fill his lungs and keep him alive. It’s a little embarrassing how hard he’s gotten in such a short amount of time but it’s been a while, oh it’s been a long while, and Jim is very nice.

He doesn’t think he can last for very long. He’s pressing closer and Jim’s pressing closer and they’re grinding against each other, kissing again, lips never straying far away from skin. Jake’s legs are straddling him and he can feel his dick pressing up against his thigh.

Jim starts to undo the top buttons on his shirt. His fingers are shaking, keep slipping, but Jake’s no help, he can barely focus either as he pulls Jim’s face closer. He can’t remember the last time he was kissed like this, the last time he was in a dimly-lit room being kissed within an inch of his life.

And then, something happens. There’s a knock on the door. They pull apart at the same time, listening with bated breath – it was just a short knock, maybe it was nothing, maybe it wasn’t someone who needed them, maybe the bubble hasn’t burst yet.

But then there’s another knock, louder this time, accompanied by a voice. It takes Jake a few moments to place it – it’s the Buzzfeed correspondent. Jim’s friend. He’s blanking on his name.

“Hey, Jim?” he calls out. “You in there?”

Jim’s eyes widen, his voice cracks just barely as he replies, “Yeah, Adrian? There, uh, something you need?”

“We’re waiting for you downstairs,” he says. “Come on, earlier we go out, longer we can stay out.”

“Okay,” Jim says. He sounds okay, he looks okay, but he’s not looking at Jake so he can’t be certain. “Yeah, I’ll be right down, let me just get dressed.” When he looks back at him, his voice is so much softer, he looks a little sad. “We gotta go.”

“Yeah,” Jake says.

Neither of them move away. They’re just leaning closer. Jake’s eyes dart down to his lips a few times before they flutter shut and he tilts his head and.

The man knocks again. “Yo, Jim, are you coming or not?”

Jake opens his eyes. Jim still has his closed. He lets out a slow breath. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, yeah, just give me a sec.” He sounds like he’s fine. He opens his eyes and slides off the bed, fixing his shirt and pulling his jacket off the chair.

He only looks at Jake when he’s ready to leave and Jake opens his mouth and, for a split second, time stops. _Stay_ , he wants to say. _Stay here. With me. You can say you’re tired, I can delay my flight, we can spend as long as we want here, it doesn’t have to end._

_Please don’t go._

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“Have a safe flight,” Jim replies. And then he’s gone. There’s some conversation he makes right outside of the door that soon drifts away as they walk, and then Jake is truly alone.

He feels. He doesn’t know how he feels. He hasn’t processed anything yet. He doesn’t know how much time has passed since he was supposed to leave for the airport. He doesn’t know how what’s happening right now, everything feels so weird and foreign and he doesn’t like it one bit.

He goes to the bathroom right before he heads out, just to wash up and make sure he looks vaguely like a functioning human being, and then he does something really, really weird. He goes to the pile of clothes, grabs the shirt he borrowed from Jim, shoves it in his bag, then pulls his bag over his shoulder and leaves.

It’s certainly not a smart decision but he does it anyway. Nothing’s been smart about these past twenty-four hours. Nothing makes sense.

It’s about ten minutes into the cab ride that he remembers he has a missed call on his phone. iPhones, with their weird, sometimes glitchy notifications. Or maybe that’s just his phone. That’s probably it.

Oh. There’s a voicemail. Oh. It’s from Jen. And nothing registers until he listens to the message.

“Hey, it’s me. Just wanted to check in, see how things were going. I guess maybe you’re still at the conference right now so you can’t pick up?

“Anyway, the kids just went to sleep and I’m probably going to sleep soon too, but if you need me to pick you up from the airport, call me, all right?

“Have a safe trip. I love you.”

He leaves his phone pressed up against his cheek long after Jen’s words have faded, and he just. sits there. stares straight ahead. watches the city go by. His wife is in his ear and there’s the taste of another man on his lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The great thing about red-eye flights is that there’s hardly anyone there to see him break down. He sits by the window, stares out into the clouds, and feels his world crumble around him.

He cheated on his wife. He cheated on her. He kissed someone else, he was ready to get fucked by someone else, but more than that – he didn’t. he didn’t think about her once. It just now occurs to him that he only called her once all day long, near the beginning, for a short conversation before. everything. Before Jim.

He’d love to blame Jim. It would be so easy to blame Jim for this whole mess. Jim, with his charming smile and his way with words and his insistence that they go out and have an adventure together. Jim dragged him along and Jake went with it but. he wasn’t forced to. He went because he wanted to.

It may have started out because of Jim but it certainly isn’t his fault and his fault alone. Because Jake. he. he still. still wishes. that he wasn’t on this plane. jim hadn’t left. that they’d stayed in that hotel room and seen where the night had taken them.

Jake doesn’t cry. He could cry. He wants to cry. He doesn’t. Something stops him and it sets his body on fire. He can’t cry, not in public, not when he doesn’t deserve to. The plane lurches and his stomach lurches and he squeezes his eyes shut. He feels so terrible. He wants to scream, maybe. Or just curl up and try to stop this terrible feeling.

He’s lost all sense of self by the time he’s outside of the airport, looking around for his Uber. Or Lyft. Whatever he ordered. He doesn’t know, nothing is making sense, it’s worse than being drunk. He’s tired, yes he’s tired, he is so tired. But it’s something beyond that. He feels.

Unfulfilled.

A car stops nearby and, after double checking that it’s what he’s been waiting for, he climbs inside.

He could’ve fallen asleep during the ride but he doesn’t, just stares out the window and at the city. There’s an ache in the back of his head that he can’t seem to understand and then there’s that weird feeling in his chest. The guilt. Right. How could he forget? Oh, fuck, he thought about it and now he’s thinking about it and now it’s filling him up and he can’t breathe. Oh no. He’s not breaking down in the back of an Uber. No one does that.

He wonders what time it is in Anaheim. He doesn’t want to check.

The house is silent by the time he gets there and he’s silent too as he drops his bag by the door, takes off his shoes, removes his socks, drops his jacket somewhere by the stairs, and he climbs into bed without even changing. Oh, no, he should’ve changed, he really should’ve changed.

These are the same clothes he kissed Jim in.

Jake’s about to get up but then, Jen shifts and turns to face him. He can barely see her face in the darkness but he can make out her hair, her eyes, her smile. It makes his heart ache.

“Hi,” she whispers.

A whispered hi. Jake’s heard that somewhere else. He swallows hard and he manages a smile. It’s dark, he’s facing away from the light, she won’t know it’s strained. “Hey,” he forces out.

“Glad to see you’re safe,” she hums, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth where someone else has kissed before, moments (hours? days? an eternity? no, not that long) ago. “What time is it?”

“Late,” he replies. “Or early, depending on your definition.” He smiles a little when she laughs at his bad joke (stop, stop, stop, don’t think about it) and he presses his nose into the side of her neck (please stop, please, you can’t do this to yourself). “I’m tired.”

“You wouldn’t be tired if you slept on the plane,” she chuckles (sleeping on the plane, fuck fuck fuck, shut your brain down and go to sleep, you can’t do this) as she gently rubs the back of his head. “You don’t want to change?”

He shakes his head. There were fingers that tried to take off his buttons, then different fingers that fixed them up in front of the mirror, also shaking and also fumbling. “No,” he mumbles. “No, I just… want to sleep.”

Jen says something else, kisses the top of his head and holds him close, and Jake can’t remember if he’s crying or not when his mind finally stops and he can drift off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He acts like it’s a dream. Well, it doesn’t feel like a dream, of course, because it happened. It happened. He remembers it happened. He was there when it happened. It happened.

The good thing is, Jim doesn’t mention it either. He acts kindly and professionally during live shots, he doesn’t make any sort of comment or allusion to their one night together (not really, it didn’t really happen, but there’s no reason he shouldn’t be guilty about it because _something_ happened), but also, he’s not as close as he used to be.

He doesn’t make any jokes, any casual comments, anything of note. He just says the right polite thing and then waits to be pulled off air. It’s best that way, Jake knows, but he. you know, he’s a romantic, he sometimes wonders if maybe Jim would just slip up, admit something he shouldn’t, give him a look that says, _I think about you_.

They’re never in the same room long enough for anything to happen. It’s better that way, Jake knows it is, and yet.

“You okay?” Rahmeen asks, a few weeks after.

Jake shrugs. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I’m all right. Just… tired.”

“Tired,” he repeats, sounding not at all convinced. But he knows Jake enough to know he’s not going to budge, and he tries to leave him alone. It’s for the best, he can do it, as long as he remains strong.

Except, he only lasts two months before his control breaks and he gives in (then again, he was certainly ready to break at any given moment since that day in September, but he just never had the opportunity to), he lets it happen.

It’s after midnight, after a special broadcast because there were some recent developments in the Russia investigation (an umbrella term for something he’s not sure anyone outside of the special counsel’s office and Rachel Maddow understand) and so of course they called him in.

And they called in Jim too. He just so happened to be the only White House correspondent available and so they brought him in too. In the studio. With him. Well, not exactly with him - they didn’t have room on the set for him, not when Jake had a whole panel filled, but he was just a room over. All Jake had to do was look at the screen and see him and this time, Jim could see him too.

It’s an early segment, it doesn’t last longer than three or four minutes, and then it’s over. Then he’s gone, and Jake continues the rest of the show like everything didn’t click into place for one horrible, wonderful second.

“Have a nice night,” Dana says as she passes his office, once all is said and done. “Tell Jen I said hi.”

“Will do,” Jake nods, smiling. He sighs a little as he shoves some papers around, he doesn’t feel tired yet, coffee still burning through his system. It’s the middle of the night, nothing is allowed to make sense, is it?

And then he finds Jim standing in front of the elevators, and all of a sudden, everything about that night comes rushing back to him like a cool breeze. He doesn’t know when he became this poetic – must be something in the air, back in California.

Jim looks over and his mouth falls open, ever so slightly. He blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jake replies.

The elevators open. Neither of them move. Jim clears his throat. “I could take the next one, if you’d rather.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jake says. His voice is oddly even and controlled, he doesn’t know how he’s managing that, not when he’s got his heart in his throat. “It’s a short ride down.”

Jim doesn’t look all that convinced, but he steps right in after Jake does, presses the button for the garage, then they’re standing there. Long silence, nothing to fill it. Acutely aware of each other’s presence. It’s not a small elevator but if Jake moves his hand out, just a little, it would brush and touch him.

They turn their heads at the same time, “Could I –” “Would you –”, and then they both stop. Jim recovers first, he swallows hard as he says, “We shouldn’t have done this.”

“No,” Jake agrees. The elevator is still going down, their faces are very close. Jim’s eyes are very brown and he looks right into them as he says, “What were you going to ask me?”

He sighs, softly. “I shouldn’t ask, you know that.” They still haven’t moved away, the elevator doors are going to open, they’ve almost reached their stop but they don’t move just yet. It’s like they can’t move now.

Jake asks again. “What were you going to ask me?”

There’s a beat of silence, Jim’s eyes dart down to the floor and then back to him. “I was going to ask,” he says, voice calm and level, “if you would come home with me.” There’s a long pause that just refuses to be filled.

Questions are on the tip of Jake’s tongue. Is this a work visit? Does he really want him to come? Does he mean something else? What does it mean? He doesn’t look away from him. “I’d like that,” he says. The doors ding open, and they step out together.

It’s as he’s climbing into his car (separate cars, easier to come and go, easier to explain in the morning) that he shoots Jen a text. Quick and simple and to the point. _Hey, spending the night at Jim’s for some work stuff. Hope you don’t mind._

Her reply comes while he’s at a stoplight and he makes the mistake of checking. _Okay, don’t stay up too late ;)_

Part of him thinks he should drive his car right into a tree. Crash and burn. What he deserves. (You’re fucking up, you’re fucking up, you’ve fucked up so bad, now you have to reap what you sow.)

He keeps driving, simple as that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jim’s fingers are shaking a little as he opens the door and Jake reaches over, puts a hand on his arm. He’s hot to the touch but that’s because Jake’s hands are cold. It’s past evening, it’s somewhere in the night, it’s cold out.

They step inside, one after the other, Jake watching Jim lock the door again before he turns around and. meets him in the middle, because Jake leans forward just as Jim does and now his hands are holding his face and he’s moving back until he’s pressed up against the wall and it’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough to make up for the pain and the heartache and everything else he’s gone through these past months.

Jim has him against the wall, he’s kissing down his jaw and pressing his nose into his neck, and Jake lets out a slow sigh. “Oh,” he says. “Please.” _Please._

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t stop kissing either. His lips are a little chapped, chafe a little as they move around his skin, but his hands are soft. They don’t fumble this time when they push off Jake’s jacket and move to the buttons on his shirt.

It’s a little easier to help this time around too, since they’ve kissed before, it’s familiar now. Well, no, not really, it’s still new and strange and unexpected but more expected than before. They have time now.

Jim’s teeth keep grazing against his skin and all Jake wants is for him to bite down and suck in a bruise. Huh, that’s unexpected. Who knew that he’d discover so soon that not only is he a cheat and a liar, but he likes – what, to be possessed? Fuck, that’s cliché.

He blinks when Jim suddenly pulls away, heart pounding in his chest until he sees him smile and ask, “What’s so funny?”

Oh. Oh shit, he’d started laughing, hadn’t he, after he thought about wanting to… Jake feels his face heat up and he looks down, trying not to laugh again. “I, uh…” he stammers, corners of his lips quirking.

Jim raises a brow. “Huh,” he hums. “I thought it would take a little longer for me to reduce you to a stuttering mess.”

Jake laughs aloud at that, he’s certainly blushing now and he clears his throat as he tries to stop. “Well,” he says, softly, “I hope this won’t dissuade you from trying anyway.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t.” Jim leans over, presses his forehead against his, he’s slow and methodical as he finishes unbuttoning Jake’s shirt. His fingers linger everywhere, soft and barely there, it makes it hard to breathe but for no reason. He brushes back the hair from Jake’s forehead and cups his cheek as he kisses him again.

Jake nearly closes his eyes again but he manages to keep them open, just a little bit, just to watch the way Jim looks as he pulls away and whispers, “I think we’re a little too old for wall sex, right?”

“Right,” Jake chuckles softly. He takes Jim’s hand when he holds it out, lacing their fingers together as they step through the hallway, past a couple of doors, past whatever spaces Jake isn’t yet allowed to see, and into the bedroom.

Jim turns on one of the lamps on the bedside table, and Jake sits down on the edge of the bed as he carefully removes his shoes and socks. He’s. slow about it. He hasn’t done this in a long time – in general, with a stranger (with someone who isn’t his wife, oh please, can we save the guilt for after the deed is done?) and it fills him with a little bit of. fear.

He’s afraid. Of course he’s afraid. This is all new and unfamiliar and he doesn’t know anything, he doesn’t know where he is or what he’s doing, he –

“Hey,” Jim says. He bends down, crouching before him and taking his hands, shaking hands. He presses a kiss to one of his palms. “This is your first time, isn’t it?”

Jake swallows hard. “Is it that obvious?” he asks, slight humor to mask his anxiety.

“Yeah,” Jim smiles, shaking his head. “We – we don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable –”

“I want to.” He wants to. He does. It’s what he came here for.

Jim doesn’t look all that convinced. He sighs a little. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I mean, maybe you should take some time to think about it, I don’t want –”

Jake cuts him off by grabbing his face with both his hands. His voice gets stuck in his throat and he lets out a shaky breath until he can speak. “Jim,” he says, slowly, “I… don’t want to think. Okay? Just please, do this for me.”

There’s a slight pause before Jim finally leans in and kisses him. He’s slow again, still gentle, sucking on Jake’s lower lip as he slowly moves closer, pushing Jake back until he’s lying down on the bed. Jake can feel his brain slowing down as it focuses on whatever Jim’s doing. Fingers brushing over his nipples, hands tugging down his pants, lashes brushing against his cheeks.

There’s a slight pause in all his moments once he’s got Jake’s pants off, and he leans over the side of the bed to reach blindly for – oh. Lube. Right, yeah, because. Yeah. Jake hopes his face isn’t as heated as he feels but the careful look Jim gives him assuages him, makes him feel warm for a different reason.

“I’m okay,” he whispers. “Just… you know.”

“I do,” Jim says softly, and he kisses him for a brief moment before he’s turning him over and he’s got him on his knees and he’s holding his hips and then. and then he’s fingering him.

It’s not what he’s used to. Of course it’s not, none of this is, but this most of all. It’s foreign, it’s unfamiliar, but it’s not. bad. Jim squeezes his hips a little, he’s being gentle, he’s murmuring in his ear, “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re doing great, you’re doing so good,” and it fills Jake with a little bit of – pride? maybe? Whatever it is, it’s nice.

Jim brushes his fingers against his prostate once or twice and Jake’s mouth falls open, he lets out a small moan, it feels so good, he’s getting so fucking hard, he can barely think. Jim leans over and kisses the corner of his mouth. It’s a lot of sensations, it’s almost too much but at the same time, it’s certainly not enough.

Anticipation fills him when he feels Jim remove his fingers, hears the telltale rip of a condom, and Jake grips the sheets beneath him as hard as he can. He lets out a slow breath as Jim clears his throat and asks, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Jake replies. And as soon as he says it, he feels. it. He doesn’t know how to describe it, there’s not really a sensation to compare it to (well, there was that time with Jen but – no no no, don’t think about her, not now, please not now) but it feels. Fuck, it feels.

Jim has his hands on his waist, fingers light and just a little bit of nail scraping against his skin, but he sounds more concerned than anything when he asks, “How is it?”

It takes a bit for Jake to remember how to use his mouth to speak. “Keep going,” he manages, and words turn into moans the moment Jim rolls his hips into him and starts to fuck him. He starts slow, very slow, almost infuriatingly slow. And while Jake appreciates the gesture, well, part of him wanted it to be –

Oh. Oh. Oh, it’s so hard to focus on it now. He’s faster now, breath hot against the back of Jake’s neck, and Jake arches toward him a little, wow, this wasn’t. he didn’t. He feels his dick leaking, desperate to be touched, Jim fucks him harder and Jake manages the shakiest of moans, “Please.” _Please._

It’s not much to go on but Jim understands, somehow, (it’s not his first time, not like it is yours, looks like you’re not at all special) and oh the thinking goes away once again when he feels his hand wrap around his dick and slowly jerk him off. It’s hard to find a rhythm like this, but Jake doesn’t mind that it’s a little out of sync.

Maybe next time it’ll be different, him in Jim’s lap, arms around his neck, just so easy to lean forward and just. kiss him.

He comes with a gasp, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels it. It takes over all his senses and for a moment, there’s nothing else in the world but that moment. He slouches down into the sheets when it’s over and feels Jim pull out of him, hears a couple of low grunts and soft sighs, then he’s lying down beside Jake and catching his breath.

Neither of them speak for a long while. Jim lifts his arm, hesitates a moment, then pulls it over Jake’s shoulders. He rubs gentle circles into his back as he asks, “Are you going to tell her?”

There’s only one her Jim could be referring to, and Jake feels bile rise up his throat when he thinks about what he would say, how she would react. He lets out a slow sigh. “No.”

Jim nods. He doesn’t want to talk about it, of course he doesn’t, and why would he? Jake’s the one who’s at fault here, he’s the one still married, he’s the one who’s going to have to deal with this when he goes back home tomorrow.

He doesn’t want to think about that yet, though. It’s not the right time. He presses his face into the nape of Jim’s neck and takes a deep breath. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“Okay,” he says, and he holds him close, until he thinks he can’t cry any more. It must be kismet. How else would you explain it, the fact that they went against what they know to be right for this?

He doesn’t even know if he wants it.


End file.
